Like Ice
by Lady Chekov
Summary: Finally, THE END. Kirk and the landing party have made it this far...what will become of the Enterprise?
1. Trouble begins...........(tee, hee.....s...

Disclaimer: Lady Chekov doesn't own any bit of star Trek. It belongs to Gene Roddenberry.  
  
"Like Ice"  
by Lady Chekov  
  
The sharp wind, laden with caustic bits of snow, tore the breath from the back of Hikaru Sulu's throat. He squinted at the sudden, emblazing white landscape around him and tried to ignore the searing flakes that drove into his skin. Whispers of the first strong breeze tickled his chin and behind his ears in a mocking manner, hinting toward an itch that didn't exist.  
Captain Kirk's tenor voice boomed to the landing party and Sulu shook off the original disorientation. He stepped ahead, glad that his footwear enabled him to walk on tops of the banks of snow, estimated to be ten feet deep in certain places. At the edge of his vision, he could see one of Chekov's security guards standing to his left. One was poised close to Uhura, another beside the young ensign behind him and Chekov, himself, taking the lead stride by stride with Captain Kirk. The captain had asked before beaming down if some much security was necessary. Lt. Chekov had looked at his commanding officier, his young eyes grave, and said,"The security of my keptin and the crew is most neessary, sair." Something close to a smile had lit Kirk's hazel eyes and he'd nodded, "You make a good case, Leuitenant, carry on." Nothing could've matched the look of dedication and pride that blended on Chekov's sharp features.  
****************************  
Captain Kirk trudged onward, hoping the cold would help sqelsh the irritation he felt. Starfleet Command had stuffed this assignment down his throat, as an order, not a request. No ambassadors freed at this time, they'd said. An intelligent race seeking military aid and who better to repersent the Federation than the military hero himself,Captain James Tiberius Kirk!!!!!!! He felt as if he were being exploited and he didn't like that. Not at all. With a sigh that was snatched up by another forceful wind, he flipped open the cover on his communicator and brought as close to his lips as possible. "Landing party to Enterprise!"   
The words met a staticy kiss in reply. "Enterprise! Come in, Enterprise!"   
There was supposed to be hardly any interference. Spock had said so before the party'd beamed down.   
Kirk cursed and slapped the futile device back onto his belt. Suddenly, he felt a whole lot colder.   
"Keptin, vat is it?"   
Chekov was a phantom, sliding up beside Kirk like his shadow. "My communicator isn't working," Kirk explained, his tone calling the situation anything but casual.   
Chekov immediately checked his own and his brow puckered as he shook his head negatively. "No reply,sair. How wery strange."  
****************************  
"Mr. Spock?"   
The timide voice floated across the bridge. A browneyed back up communications officer looked anxiously at the Vulcan. "Yes, Ensign? Is there a problem?" "Uh........I think so, sir............um.....I.....I...can't seem to raise the landing party...there's much interference, sir."  
Spock's pencil-thin brow rose a half-inch and he moved from the command chair to the science console. A moment later, his eyebrow jumped again.   
"The ceased contact is no wrongdoing on your part, ensign. It appears a sheild has been erected over our landing party, blocking communicatons and transport, too, I presume." Spock's glittering dark eyes fled to the veiwscreen where the homely gray planet rotated around its lonesome white star. "The sheild seems to be highly sophicated in struc-" Green flames burst from Spock's console, bolts of electricity searing up his arms and entangling his body with their fiery hold.  
He collapsed to his knees, fighting off the pain madly. A hand touched his shoulder. Concern. Confusion. Compassion. Emotions, not his own, rushed unbidden into his mind.   
"Doctor, Don't touch me!"   
Spock shouted, yanking away from the withered comfort. But the eyes were still there, Prying eyes raised across the bridge all watching him flail about the deck. The eyes of the crew, feeding him distressing traces of fear, awe and suprise. The last image to sear his tortured thoughts was a pair of opalescent orbs, alive with rage and flame.......then, Spock lost conciousness and Doctor Mccoy scrambled to his aid.   
*****************************  
The trees formed a barrier against the lashing wind. The odd-shaped braches streched out like broken fingers, knobbed at odd angles. They reminded Uhura of Earth pines in a strange way, like the resemblence between a house mouse and sewer rat. She sighed, tugging her feild jacket collar closer up around her throat.   
"No luck," She announced, sadly gesturing to the disemboweled remains of her communicator. "The jamming is absolute.There's no way around it."  
"Could it be the Klingons, sir?"  
Ensign Laking piqued, his voice wavering thinly in the cold air. The thought hung among them a moment, causing the tension to thicken so much it could've only been cut with a knife. Kirk's voice was a steel blade.  
"Unless the Federation has been selling secrets to the Empire, I highly doubt our Klingon friends are that intelligent."  
Laking blushed a vibrant red and plopped down on a boulder, "y.....yes, sir.....," he stammered, chastened but reassured.  
"I think the mission should continue despite the communications crash," Kirk decided reluctantly, pacing to and fro with determination. There wasn't much else he could do in this situation. sitting around freezing to death while awaiting the Enterprise's call couldn't be a valid option.  
"Our rendezvous point is 15 kilometers North," Sulu added, helpfully. One of the security guards groaned aloud.   
"The Solotans might be able to help us, sir," Uhura put in, her eyes shining with new hope, "they must have some kind of communicating device."  
Kirk stood, filled with pride for his able officiers.  
"The plan is made then................now, we walk."  
Commander Sulu looked out at the vast expanse of white, dotted with tree trunks and shrivelled stunted evergreens............and found himself shuddering.  
******************************  
Fires raged in Spock's sleep, twisting serpents of lime green flame.  
"What is it that angers you?"  
He begged of the unblinking white eyes.  
"FEDERATION LIES!!!!!!!"  
The bitter voice came from everywhere and no where.  
"FEDERATION MURDERS!!!!"  
"The Federation protects its members," Spock concluded logically.  
A banshee scream of anger jolted through his mind.  
"MURDERS!!!!!!!!!!COWARDS!!!!!!!!!"  
  
Spock sat bolt upright in bed. Sickbays gentle whirrs and murmurs immediately washed away the visicious screams. The bland StarFleet issue walls wiped the fire from his eyes. But the memory was still very clear.  
"Spock!"  
McCoy hurried across the room, his concerned gaze measuring the first officier's outward appearance as well as the Vulcan's statistics being pulsed out of the diagnostic headboard.  
"How do you feel??"  
"An invalid question, doctor, considering my Vulcan heritage........"  
"Don't feed me that, Spock!!!" McCoy spat, his craggy face drawn with true distress,  
"What the hell is wrong?"  
"I believe I have been contacted,"  
Spock still sat ramrod straight, his hands clasped in a meditative position in front of him. The doctor's light blue eyes searched the Vulcan in confusion.  
"Huh?"  
"The Solotans do not wish to contacted by the Federation. I find it necessary that the ship be put on red alert. The landing party must be quickly retrieved. The rage that has been revealed to me..........," Spock hesistated, his clasped hands tightening ever so slightly,  
"....seems completely capable of killing." 


	2. The trouble continues...(mhaHAHAHAHAHA!!...

Commander Hikaru Sulu peered out at the ocean of white, realizing, rather drearily, that no matter how far they went, it didn't seem to change at all. The wind had died away, but gentle snowflakes still fell, soft and unobtrusive. Sulu pointed his tricorder towards the horizon, fumbling with his large glove as he smeared snow from the tiny screen. Not that it revealed anything interesting, anyway.  
Sulu hated snow.   
Sulu hated winter.  
Sulu even hated being cold.  
Growing up in sunny San Fransico had spoiled him some, filling his adolescent mind with sands, colors, movement and sound. Compared to that, snow was a dull, white cage. A blank, untextured canvas that couldn't be touched by an artist's brush. It irritated him, the uncreativity of it. Shoving the sense of foreboding aside, Sulu once again scanned the horizon with little hope.  
  
  
**********************  
  
  
Pavel Chekov was humming. Kirk realized this, not without some annoyance, as the young Russian's softly sung dirge invaded the thick quiet.  
  
"Glad to see that SOMEONE is happy, mister Chekov."  
  
There was a slight sarcastic edge to the observation, and Chekov reddened visibly to the shade of his field jacket.  
  
"Oh,.........I, sair...........I em sorry. I guess I vas just reminded a leetle of home........"  
  
Kirk was confused a moment before he realized that Chekov spoke of Russia rather than the "Enterprise." It seemed almost strange that not everyone thought of the starship as their home.  
  
"I em truly sorry, sair, and it vill not heppen again.............I,too, em vorried about our lost contact...................."  
  
He trailed off, the embaressed flare still staining his cheeks, as his young guards listened with amusement.  
  
"That's fine, mister Chekov. After all, we are all human."  
  
Kirk felt a sting of regret as Spock's voice resounded in his ear,  
"Please Captain, don't be insulting."  
He was worried about his sleek ship, up above him in orbit. About his crew, left in abandonment with no way of communicating with him, down below.   
Yet when the security cheif slipped back into his Russian melody, his doleful captain didn't bother to mention it.  
  
  
***************************  
  
  
  
"We canna get through the sheild, Mister Spock,"  
  
Scotty's drawn face was illuminated by a pale wash of red alert light.  
  
"The transporter beam gets scrambled evratime we send it down. There's nae way ye can try to beam up the landing party.......................  
.....whole, that is."  
  
"I see, Mr. Scott."  
  
Spock replied, his impassive stare revealing no trace of the engineer's obvious discouragement.  
  
"Have you any ideas on what the sheild is composed of?"  
  
"Nae a thought, Mr. Spock......But it certainly is a powerful beastie!!!! Just pure power!"  
Scott shook his head and repeated in a mutter, "Just pure power..."  
  
"Do you think that a shuttlecraft would be sufficient means to get through the screen?"  
  
Scott's brow wrinkled as he thought about the Vulcan's strange question.  
"I canna tell ya, Mister Spock........"  
  
"Be that as it may, it is the only valid option that we have. I shall prepare to pilot a shuttle craft  
through the screen and to the-"  
  
"To HELL you ARE, Spock!!!!!!!!"  
  
McCoy's angry shout drew little reaction from Spock, except for a raised ebony eyebrow.  
  
"Doctor, there seems to be no other options at this time........"  
Spock turned back to Scotty as if McCoy's hovering presence had never interfered.  
"Mr. Scott, I shall take a fully-equipped shuttle through the sheild, alone, and attempt to evacuate our landing party."  
  
"Spock, now YOU listen to ME!"  
  
McCoy stood at least three inches shorter than the agile Vulcan, but he still proceeded to block Spock's path. Sapphire eyes flared in the red light, as his voice took on a more formal, practiced tone.  
  
"I have been observing your IRRATIONAL behavior lately. You are NO LONGER fit for duty, sir. I could EASILY force you to release command."  
  
It satisfied McCoy to see that this threat ruffled the Science Officier's feathers, even if only a little bit. He continued, trying to force an inappropriate grin away as he spoke.  
  
"It would be irresponsible of me to let you preform this mission without SOME KIND of supervision. In fact, the ONLY way I will allow you to go on this crazy mission is if you are ACCOMPANIED by a member of medical personnel  
Namely, Mr. Spock,.......ME!"  
  
Leonard H. McCoy had never seen a Vulcan this close to choking before. It would have been a most humorous sight, if the circumstances hadn't been so dire.   
Spock's skin turned a lovely shade of light olive.  
  
"Doctor,"  
He began, after a few moments of restrained silence.  
"This is black-mail."  
  
This time the smile spread over the physician's feature's unsupressed. A Southern drawl deepened in the Doctor's voice.  
  
"You're darn right it is, Spock."  
  
"You understand, Doctor, that many lives are at stake at this very moment? I have no time for your human "jokes."  
  
"I am NOT joking." McCoy's temper flew at once to boiling point.   
"I am going to go with you. Or you are NOT going at all."  
  
Spock could have, at that very instant, allowed one pale hand to snake out and pinch the important nerves so easily accessable at the base of the doctor's neck, and cease all further argument. But it was then he saw the true worry in McCoy's bright blue eyes. Perhaps, it was logical to include Doctor McCoy if his strange behavior was becoming so obviously distressing. Medical aid would quite possibly be helpful.  
  
"Very well."  
  
McCoy's stern expression vanished into a face of pure wonder.  
"HUH???"  
  
Seeing the good Doctor caught of guard sent a very human splash of emotion through him. Molified, Spock answered,  
  
"Meet me at 0200 hours in the shuttlebay."  
  
Then, the lean Vulcan passed the open mouthed physician without looking back.  
  
  
*************************  
  
  
Little cotton puffs of breath escaped Uhura's lips as she hiked. The sky was stained salmon as Solo's sun set in the North. The small communications officer didn't like the way it colored the snow.......a shade similar to diluted blood, she thought eerily and shivered. She felt someone breifly touch her shoulder and turned to see Sulu's worried eyes.  
  
"Are you cold?'  
  
Yes, she wanted to answer, very cold, but not on the outside........  
Something in those dark, onyx eyes told her that the helmsman would probably agree with her.  
  
Instead, she simply shook her head and offered him a slip of a smile. He returned it, some good humor returning to his face.   
  
Worry with Hikaru Sulu tended to be a fleeting thing.   
  
Uhura let her sharp gaze drift over her fellow landing party, vaguely aware of the way they all seemed to share her irrational unease.  
Kirk strode with confidence, but the distress was apparent in his pace. He was exhausted, though impatient, each step seemed wearily forced.   
  
Chekov, still keeping up behind his commanding officer, had lost all of his earlier nostalgic reassurance. Now, he looked wary, as if remembering past chills and dangers. Dark eyes flitted over the pine-dotted landscape with such an intense suspision that it even made Uhura feel slightly nervous. His three guards naturally followed the Russian's careful example.  
  
Ensign Laking looked as pale as the snow, his green eyes wide saucers in his round face. His glance darted fearfully over the plains.  
Probably looking for a Klingon, waiting for one to pop up from a snow drift, Uhura thought with a mental chuckle. She felt sympathy for the poor paranoid young man. The first mission was often the hardest.  
  
The wind came as a gust and she yanked her burgundy feild jacket tighter, this time shuddering with honest cold. Snow lifted from the dunes in clods, momentarily stinging her eyes . And in that instant of dreadful blindness, Nyota Uhura heard something that sounded like a close relative to phaser fire. 


	3. The trouble deepens......(uh OH!)

Something that sounded like a cross between a phaser and a mutant insect whizzed past Sulu's head, it's buzzing whisper reminding him of Terran misquitoes.  
  
"GET DOWN!!!!"  
  
The female guard nearest to him shoved the helmsman harshly to his knees.  
Finally, the view cleared as the moaning wind died away, and the Starfleet officiers could clearly see their attackers.  
Six Solotans stood before them, clothed in swatches of heavy fur and leather. Their hair was shocking white, though their features were not old, by Earth standards. Camoflage, Sulu realized, almost with a sense of wonder as another bolt of light whirled past his head.   
Large, round, hueless eyes bulged slightly from their pale faces like fresh pearls planted there. But what drew immediate attention to these oddly featured aliens were the weapons they carried. One well-aimed blue blast collided with the chest of the security officier to Sulu's left, even before the young woman had a chance to clear even one shot with her phaser. For an agonized second, she clawed at her red tunic, then collapsed, her lifeless face forever cast in a grimace of pain. The two remaining guards opened fire, no fear apparent in their hard features or brave stance. Another recieved a shot to the chest and fell with a breif puff of angel soft snow.   
Before Sulu could reach her, Uhura rose to her feet and reached for a slim metal device hooked on her belt. A Univeral Translator.  
  
"Uhura,NO!!"  
  
The Solotans had managed to take down most of the people who carried weaponry, Sulu saw how using the innocent device could be fatally misunderstood. His tenor shout gained Chekov's attention in the din and the Russian noticed one pale adversary was aiming for the small communications officier. Pavel dove for the little figure, to shove Uhura down, when a single sapphire blast grazed off his bicep.  
  
As a child, Chekov had fallen through the ice once. He'd been wandering around, bored, on his uncle's fishing trip, when he felt the slick ground crack and lurch beneath his feet. The world fell away in a single step and his flesh felt ahsarp jolt of pain. There was no sensation of veing wet, just that bright, awlful hurt that only extreme cold could cause. That feeling now surged down his arm. He dropped to his knees, astounded by this gelid touch, knowing now what had caused the eerily tortured deaths of his young guards. The blasts had frozen their very hearts in their chests.  
  
Uhura felt tears bite her eyes when Chekov was struck but she took the opportunity to flick on the little red switch and raise the translator to her lips.  
She could've screamed "Stop" or begged for mercy but she didnt.  
Instead, she bellowed into the tiny mike,  
  
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM US!?!?"  
  
The Solotans paused as their own language chirruped loudly from the silver rod. They gazed fitfully at each other, until the largest one stepped forward.  
This was no longer a war, but a negotiation.  
He belted out a few gurglings and the translator repeated them in Standard English.  
  
"WE HAVE DESTROYED YOUR GUARD, YOU SHALL NOW FOLLOW US TO MEET THE ALMIGHTY JASHA!"  
  
Kirk spoke up, pitching his voice so the Translator would pick it up.  
"AND IF WE REFUSE?"  
The lead Solotan shrugged, as if indifferent, then chirped a few lines.   
"THEN WE KILL YOU WERE YOU STAND."  
  
A few Solotan warriors were splitting from the group to surround the Officiers, holding their weapons ready. The only sounds that interrupted the quiet were Chekov's harsh breathing and Ensign Laiking's frightened sobs.  
  
"Who is this "Jasha" of which you speak? Is he your ruler?"  
  
A titter of alien laughter followed Kirk's demanding comment. This display confused Kirk and he hated the helpless feeling he now had. He was powerless at this instant, having no control over the fate of his crew. Still he was play-acting the all-controlling captain, if only for the sake of the weeping Ensign behind him and his own personal grasp on sanity in these moments.   
  
"YOU SHALL MEET THE JASHA.....THERE ALL ANSWERS SHALL BE GIVEN AND ALL CRIMES SHALL BE MET WITH PUNISHMENT."  
  
Slowly, the group began to move forward. Sulu and Uhura helped Chekov to his feet, pausing with him as he stopped to examine each of his guards for any sign of life in their stiff bodies. He gritted his teeth against the frustration and greif, and allowed the others to move him along, his arm now as numb and heavy as his heart.   
  
His crying now reduced to fearful hipcups, Ensign Laking stumbled among them, never leaving the dark protective outline of Kirk's shadow.  
  
Kirk headed the group of ragged survivors, his gaze of crisp hazel defiance firmly planted on the Solotan's leader. Oh, yes, he would meet their Jasha, whatever of whoever that was, but he would not be ruled by their forces while his own inner rule still remained, strong and embittered for revenge. There is no such thing as the no-win situation in the mind of Captain James Tiberius Kirk.  
  
*************************************  
  
Sock had piped two different stations into one seat at the helm. Computerized navigations aided him as he flew the shuttle, and scientific information bloomed before his eyes when he needed it. That left Doctor McCoy to communications. And, a more exhausting task of just sitting in the back, filled with nervous anxiety.   
  
"We are about to pass through the sheild, Doctor."  
  
McCoy swallowed hard and squeaked the announcement through subspace to the awaiting Enterprise. His hands were trembling as he pulled away from the communication's console.   
Why had he wanted to come in the first place??  
Not for the first time, McCoy chided himself for blackmailing Spock for a seat on this ride. Now he wanted to go back home, to the warm and cozy spaceship there little shuttle had been birthed from....  
Suddenly, Spock reared back with a cry, his hands clamping on his temples like longlegged starfish.  
  
"MCCOY!!!!!"  
  
He screamed, and despite, Leonard's irrational fear, the good doctor flew across the lurching deck to the Vulcan's side.  
"Spock! Spock, what is it??? What's happening??"  
  
"Give your hand, Doctor......give me your mind's total focus...,"   
The vulcan croaked, pain making the words tight.   
McCoy clamped onto the Vulcan's hand like an obediant child, his gaze concernedly taking in the pain and force that made the Spock's face a dark green.  
Spock began to say words, chant them almost.  
  
"You will allow us through this sheild....you will allow us through this sheild....you will not stop us...you will allow-"  
"Us through the sheild..you will allow us through this sheild......,"  
  
McCoy wasn't aware of when he'd first began joining in on Spock's mantra, but he spoke it now, his voice raising with passion and power. He was no longer simply saying the words, he believed the words.  
  
"YOU WILL ALLOW US THROUGH THE SHEILD!  
YOU WILL NOT STOP US!  
YOU WILL ALLOW US THROUGH YOUR SHEILD!~  
you CANNOT stop US!!!!!!"  
  
The two mens' shouting duet reached a forte and the small shuttle was no longer being volleyed back and forth like a pingpong ball.   
McCoy's head felt like it had gone nova. He released Spock's hand to rub his forehead with a groan. The Vulcan returned his gaze to the console, then raised exhausted eyes to McCoy,  
  
"Congragulations, Doctor.......we have succeeded in passing through the sheild."  
  
"Now, wait, just a DANG minute there, Spock...."  
McCoy wobbled and dropped to a chair, unable to stand any longer.   
"And tell me, what the HELL just happened??"  
  
"The sheild was made out of strong telepathic energy, Doctor. Since I am the only one aboard the Enterprise also capable of telepathy, I was affected the most by the sheild's energy."  
  
"Those flames, then.....," McCoy murmured, "You're saying that the whole dang thing came out of someone's mind?"  
  
"That is, in essence, correct."  
  
McCoy whistled.  
  
"I, myself, was not able to break through the sheild using my mind alone. I refocused some your energy to aid me, Doctor McCoy. I am grateful for your cooperation. Without you,....we wouldn't have passed through the sheild...unharmed."  
  
"You call this 'unharmed'?" McCoy drawled,  
"My head hasn't ached like this since I was seventeen and got into my Dad's whiskey....whew!"  
He leaned back in the seat.   
"If it's all the same to you, Spock, I'm gonna catch a few Z's before this rig hits planetside........"  
"By all means, Doctor, please, rest..............."  
  
Spock added, in a quieter tone of voice,  
"Because I am sure this is still not quite over." 


	4. Be afraid...be very afraid....(snicker,s...

Sulu's glance worriedly drilled over his steadily slowing companion. Chekov was trudging forward, his determination dwindling, his quickly purpling arm clamped to his side. The young Russian's features were drawn, his skin faded to hueless. He stumbled twice, relying on Sulu's shoulder as his anchor.  
  
"Chekov?"  
  
  
That gained a gaze, lethargic yet inquiring. That look made Sulu shudder.   
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
It took Chekov a moment to ponder the question. He attempted to flex his stiff fingers, but they didn't budge. He nodded once in Sulu's general direction then replaced all his inner focus on walking forward.  
Uhura shared a glance with Sulu, one of mutual worry for their friend.   
  
The group was forced to an abrupt halt, causing Ensign Laking to nearly stumble facefirst into his captain's broad back.   
The leader of the Solotan braves, glared at them with opal eyes, then let out a command in his lilting language.   
  
"YOU ARE ABOUT TO ENTER THE JASHA'S SANCTUARY."  
  
The ground opened up a snowy maw, showing a flight of icy stairs. The prisioners' trodded down the dangerous steps, grabbing at the cold walls for support when the smooth surface beneath them confused their feet.   
The chamber around them bloomed into immense beauty, the ceiling stretching onward, making a second sky of grey stone.   
  
"THE JASHA KNOWS ALL, SEES ALL...."  
  
The guard continued, not bothering to turn to his inferior captives as he spoke.  
  
"ONLY ONE IS BORN IN EVERY FIVE CENTURIES."  
  
"What is this...Jasha...to you?," Kirk asked, throwing an arm behind him to catch Ensign Laking from stumbling past.  
  
This time, the guard turned, a sneer painting his blank face with fierce dislike for the captain.   
  
He said nothing...just clapped his hands together. Two doors split open at the end of the hall.  
  
Uhura gasped in fright and tried to pull away from her supportive grasp on Chekov, suddenly filled with unexplainable anxiety. The Russian snared Nyota's wrist with his good hand and yanked her back with such force, they both nearly fell.   
  
"It's only in your head...The fear is only in your mind..."  
  
He muttered, then glared the same message into Sulu's startled eyes.  
  
Ensign Laking scrambled back, missing a step in his haste and crashing to the artic floor. "oh, gods....what is it?? WHAT IS IT????? what is in there??"  
  
Captain Kirk's back tensed and he shot a breif hazel glance over his shoulder. He thought of his Vulcan first officer and could help a small, inappropriate grin of irony.  
  
"What is it, Ensign? It's a...telepath."  
  
Laking looked up, fearful and meek, "Wha? What??"  
  
"A telepath controling our thoughts by FEAR, ensign. The fright is simply in your mind."  
  
The guards pushed the landing party through the large doors into a smaller room. Terror seemed to hang in the air like humidity.  
Ensign Laking stood like a deer, skittish, a step away from true panic.  
  
And there, sitting in the very center of the chamber, was an old woman.   
Huge white eyes, looking like boiled eggs smashed into her sockets, layed their scrutiny upon the group. A long mane of black hair roiled down her wrinkled cheeks and collected by her tiny feet. Her mouth did not open to address them, nor did the voice they heard emit from the univeral translator.   
Her voice, powerful and shrill echoed in their heads like a bell.  
  
"I AM THE JASHA. I TRIED TO DISSUADE YOU FROM COMING THIS CLOSE. PUNY HUMAN MINDS ARE EASILY FED. BUT YOU IGNORED YOUR OWN INSTINCT AND CAME ANYWAY, HERE TO SUFFER FOR THE CRIMES THE FEDERATION CAUSED AGAINST SOLO."  
  
James Kirk was enraged, anger flooded his heart, and bitter words escaped his lips with out a second thought.  
  
"OUR crimes?? Your people KILLED four of my crew!!! What crimes has the Federation done to deserve such a welcome???!"  
  
The old woman stood, her fragile bones shaking with a fury the ancient body could barely contain  
"WHAT CRIMES??!! FEDERATION-MEN CAME DOWN FROM THE SKIES AND MURDERED SOLOTAN CITIZENS FOR THE ORE OF OUR PLANET!!!!  
THREE WHOLE VILLAGES NOW LIE IN RUIN AND BLOOD BECAUSE OF YOUR GREED."  
  
The Jasha sat heavily, as if the burden of such a thought had been too immense to carry while standing.  
  
"That is impossible!," Kirk argued, "The Federation would never do such a thing without just cause. An event as barbaric as that could be the cause of a war...There is no way."  
  
"YOU SAY THAT NOW. BUT YOU DID NOT WITTNESS AS THE GREAT BIRDS BLOTTED OUT THE LIGHT AND LAYED WASTE TO OUR LAND."  
The Jasha snarled within their ears,  
"I WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR...FEDERATION!"  
"Are you now going to punish us for crimes we were no part of??," Kirk demanded, his eyes flickering over his ragged landing party.  
  
"YES."   
The old woman stood again, coming forward with shaky steps, but denying any aid from her guards.  
"IT IS CLEAR FROM YOUR MINDS THAT YOU KNOW NOT OF THE HORROR I HAVE DESCRIBED. BUT AS AN EXAMPLE TO OTHER FEDERATION MONSTERS, I SHALL PUNISH YOU"  
"How very fair of you...," Kirk stabbed, his voice echoing harshly against the chamber walls.  
  
Pavel moaned softly and grabbed Sulu's shoulder for balance.  
  
"Chekov?"  
  
The asian helmsman turned in time to catch his friend for collapsing to the ice.   
  
"Oh,no," Uhura cried, "Oh, Pavel..."  
  
"YOU WILL NOT BE...UNFAIRLY...PUNISHED."  
  
The Jasha walked barefoot across the gelid floor, her hair sweeping gently over the icy surface. She halted before Chekov's form, carefully clutched in Sulu's arms.  
  
"YOU SHALL ALL BE PUNISHED EQUALLY."  
  
She ignored Hikaru's glare as she pulled up Chekov's sleeve and revealed the violet limb in the dim light.  
  
"THEREFORE, THIS ONE SHALL BE TAKEN TO THE HEALING CHAMBERS AND FIXED BEFORE HE JOINS YOU IN YOUR PUNISHMENT.  
ALL MUST BE EQUALLY HEALTHY TO BE EQUAL IN SUFFERING."  
  
She snapped brittle fingers and a pair of guards took the limp Russian from Sulu's embrace and carried him off. Uhura gazed, dolefully, tearfully after.  
  
"AS FOR THE REST OF YOU..."  
  
She snapped again and the remainder of the guards stepped forward to prod their weapons into the little group.  
  
"...THE CAGES.."  
  
Haggard and uncertain, the Starfleet officers were led away, five men short of the original count.  
  
* * * * * * * ** ** ** ** ** ** * * * * * * * 


	5. Are we Having fun yet? I KNOW, let's ad...

"Doctor."  
  
A pair of hands stiffly shook the sleeping McCoy's shoulders, gaining a few muffled curses and a rather unctous groan of exhaustion.  
  
"Doctor, we have landed."  
  
Leonard rubbed his temples, blinking blearily up at the Vulcan.   
"What in blue blazes did you do to me, Spock?? ...god...my head..."  
The good doctor rose awkwardly to his feet, only to sink back into his chair. He gestured to his medical bag, mocking him from the cockpit.  
"Spock..could you?..."  
The Vulcan swiftly strode to the front of the shuttle and snatched the doctor's bag from the bundle of shock webbing it was ensnared in. McCoy smiled wearily, and prepared himself a hypo of painkillers.   
"Mister Spock, you're an angel!"  
Spock's brow leapt nearly to his hairline in concealed Vulcan suprise.  
"Obviously not, doctor."  
McCoy snickered, then sobered, thinking of more important things as his headache dissapated somewhat.  
"Did you contact Scotty? At least they'll know we're alive..."  
"I regret to inform you, Doctor, that the sheild has closed behind us. All communications are cut off."  
To demostrate this point, he pressed a slender finger on the communications switch. Sour static screeched over the intercom for a few moments then Spock mercifully shut it off.   
McCoy swore softly beneath his breath and shook his head.   
"I guess that means we're on our own, eh, Spock?"  
The tall Science Officer spared the doctor a glance, saying so much with that silent stare that McCoy swallowed hard and looked away.  
"In the physical sense, yes, Doctor, we are alone."  
The implied statement hovered dangerously in the air for a few moments longer, even more intense than Spock's unhopeful glare.  
"And..er...in the non-physical sense, Mr. Spock?"  
Spock straightened, and turned back to the panels.  
"That is nothing you should concern yourself with. Please, Doctor, prepare for the excursion. I know where we are to go from here."  
McCoy didn't bother to ask how the Vulcan could possibly know...Spock had answered that already . His single stoic glance told the doctor that they were   
absolutely  
NOT  
alone.  
  
* ****  
  
  
The cage was a prision cell built deeply into the frosted walls of the underground cavern. Crude metal bars trapped the Starfleet officers like a variety of exotic birds out of sorts in a winter setting.  
Captain James T. Kirk paced by the bars, the alternating shadows of light and dark falling on his face as he strode past. Sulu and Uhura talked quietly, their word mashing together into one soft and sullen murmur, that echoed off the walls.  
Ensign Laking sat with his knees up to his chest, piping up now and then with a whine of remorse.  
  
"I never should have joined StarFleet..."  
  
Ensign Laking's sniveling was quickly gnawing at Kirk's nerves. The commander whirled finally on the huddled boy, visicious in his reprimand.  
  
"GOOD GOD, ENSIGN!! Have a little COURAGE, will you?!"  
  
Young eyes raised to Kirk's face...  
and immediately pooled with tears.   
The young man buried his face into his knee caps and sobbed harshly into his pants.  
"Captain!"  
Uhura hurried over to the Ensign's side and gave Kirk an unbelieving glare. You were young and unexperienced once, her almond eyes stated clearly.   
Kirk darkened with shame and gently lowered himself to an inquiring crouch.  
"I'm...sorry, Ensign. I didn't mean to release my frustration out on you. You certainly don't deserve to be yelled at."  
The ensign calmed a bit and peered at his captain searchingly, large streams of tears gushing from his frightened eyes.  
"Tell me...what's your name, Ensign?"  
The lad sniffled and scrubbed at his wet eyes, "It's...it's Claude Laking, sir."  
"Mr. Laking, what I need from you now, what I require from all my crew in times of crisis, is your concentration on the problem at hand. You can be afraid...you can be terrifed, but your duty will be the first and foremost, understand?"  
Laking nodded once, took a large gasp of breath, then nodded again, more determinded this time.  
"I understand, sir."  
"Good."  
Kirk rose, his black pants covered in a glaze of white frost and began to pace again. Laking unclenched himself and took a seat beside Sulu and Uhura, sharing in their quiet buzz of conversation. Although discussion didn't change the predicament, it was a needed comfort.  
  
*****  
  
Engineer Montgomery Scott withdrew himself from the transporter's open panels to hastily jab the chirping communicator.   
"Scott here," he grumbled, wiping his dirty fingers on the hem of his red tunic. "It better be good!"  
"Mister Scott...our long range sensors have picked up a Klingon ship headed for Solo, going warp 5...it will be here in 45.7 minutes!"  
"Call a red alert, lad, I am on muh way to the bridge, " Scotty assured the young voice, "Don't do h'anythin' till I get there."   
"Klingons!!" The engineer cussed as he sprinted for the turbolift, "I can bet they aren't givin' us a social call!"  
The red alert klaxon exploded to life as the acting captain sped to the bridge, fretting aloud to himself as he went.  
  
*****  
  
An odd couple stumbled over the white landscape, one tall and with long and graceful strides, the other galloping rather slowly but surely across the sea of snow. McCoy's breath puffed away from his lips, reminding him of the smoky pipes his father favored in younger days. The thought left bitterly empty a moment and his mind pulled away from the nostalgia to focus on more pressing medical matters.   
"Hang on, Spock, you need a dose of extra pep if you want to continue in this climate."  
  
"Doctor, I fail to comprehend your meaning..."  
  
"An energy booster, Mr. Spock, a form of Vulcan adrenaline, it will keep you from freezing to death in this weather for a few hours..."  
  
"If you had elaborated as such earlier, Doctor, I would have readily agreed to an injection. You must learn to be more concise with your explanations-"  
McCoy stabbed the Vulcan's arm with a hypo and continued walking, successfully cutting off Spock's lecture.   
Suddenly the ground before the doctor roared open and Spock grabbed McCoy's shoulder to keep him from toppling into the entrance. The pair carefully crept down the flight of stairs revealed to them, scrambling to keep their footing on the ice-carved steps.   
McCoy murmured something as he stared up at the gray ceiling and the immense stalagtites that ordenated the walls. Spock turned and pointed at huge doors blocking off a section of the cavern.  
  
"That is our destination, Doctor."  
  
The doors, as if they heard their cue at Spock's words, obediantly swung open, letting out what seemed to McCoy as the equivelent to the contents of Pandora's box. He gave a hoarse shout and reared back, at once filled with terrible fear, and unknown horror.   
"Oh, God...they must be dead..they must be all dead...we have..have to leave this place, NOW, SPOCK! SPOCK!"  
  
"Doctor,"  
  
Spock turned and snatched McCoy's arms before he could flee back up the stairs,  
"There is nothing to fear. You must control yourself."  
  
"Spock, Let ME GO!! You greenbloodied, pointy-eared fool!!!,"  
  
McCoy tried desperately to yank away from the Vulcan. Spock squeezed harder, his Vulcan strength successful in gaining the Doctor's abrupt attention.   
  
"Doctor, there IS NOTHING to fear. What you are experiencing is only being placed in your mind. Do you understand??"  
  
McCoy's wide eyes blinked twice at the Vulcan, then the doctor cleared his throat,  
  
"Yeah, I think I get it.   
Can you allow the circulation back into my arms now please?"  
  
Unamused as always, Spock released his hold and started for the open chamber at the end of the hall. McCoy reluctantly started forward, then ran to the Vulcan's side. Maybe he was scared out of his wits, but McCoy damn well wasn't going to let Spock face this alone! 


	6. Spock and McCoy versus the Jasha

I am sorry about the wait on this chapter...I had the lead role in a play, and absolutely no time to let the creative juices flow...But here it is. Enjoy:)   
  
  
  
  
  
Commander Hikaru Sulu shivered and tried pulling himself into a tighter ball. The air was becoming more chilled now, a deep bone-touching cold that seemed to be universal for the plunge into nightfall. The helmsman forced his trembling to subside and glanced about his caged comrades, hoping to take his mind off this horridly gradual temperature decline.   
Uhura sat close by him, huddled beneath her thick layers of coat and still talking quietly to the young ensign Claude Laking.   
Uhura had such a fine way of talking to people. Her warm eyes and honey coated voice could coax anyone to spill over their secrets to her. Sulu grinned slightly, in guilty remembrance. He had more than once fallen victim to her irresistable charm when the latest gossip compelled him to keep quiet.   
She laughed then, at something the ensign had said, and the sound filled their chambers, ringing like golden wind chimes. Such a welcoming tone didn't belong here, in the bleak scenery of a forever winter.  
  
Sulu felt a breif pang of some obscured emotion and turned his glance to Captain Kirk. Their commander sat a few feet away, his nervous pacing finally at an end. Sulu suspected that exhaustion was the cause, stopping only the Captain's tired legs. The hazel eyes still walked back and forth near the barred entrance, un-fatigued, searching for an answer there. For an instant, those eyes blended gaze with Sulu's and shared a moment of breif reassurance.   
"Sulu?"  
The soft voice startled him and jerked his head in Uhura's direction.   
There was sadness in her face, barely hidden beneath an apologetic and pretty smile.  
"Do you think Pavel is alright?"  
"I think he is just fine, Commander."  
Kirk spoke before Sulu could even open his lips to respond. "Where ever he is, I am sure that the Solotans are caring for him."  
"They didn't seem like they wanted to hurt him," Sulu added, "Not yet, anyway."  
"Not ever, Mister Sulu. Not any of us. Spock is probably working on the sheild problem right now...in a few hours, they will either send a landing party or contact Starfleet Command. We will make it out of this, Commander."   
The words weren't unusual in a time like this. From anyone elses' tongue, they would've sounded placating, condescendingly hopeful. But when Kirk spoke, it became truth.   
  
*************************************************  
  
  
  
"SPOCK."  
  
The voice did not escape from the old woman's shiveled lips, but rang in the mens' minds as they stood before her.  
  
"I WAS EXPECTING YOU WOULD COME. YOUR MIND OFFERS MUCH POWER."  
  
She rose from her rose colored cushions, her long ebony mane rippling from her shoulders to the floor. She took an agonizingly shaky step forward, and McCoy bit back the urge to run up and help her as she walked weakly towards Spock.  
  
"I AM SURE YOU WISH TO AQUIRE AN EXPLANATION. I INTEND TO GIVE YOU ONE.  
THE FEDERATION ATTACKED OUR PLANET FOR IT'S PRECIOUS ORES. THEY LAYED WASTE TO MANY VILLAGES. THEY TORE OPEN OUR PEOPLE. AND NOW FEDERATION RETURNS, SENDING THOSE OF SUSPECTED INNOCENCE. I SHALL NOT HAVE IT. I SHALL PUNISH THEM, IN ORDER TO PUNISH THE FEDERATION."  
  
Spock nodded at this, calm despite her words. So calm in fact, that Doctor McCoy wished he could sock him a good one.  
  
"What you are saying, Madam Jasha, is not logically sound. What you have described is indeed not the acts of our Federation. And furthermore, your idea of punishing the few who know nothing of the crimes, would not harm the Federation deeply. Your words echo for an irrational revenge."  
  
She turned from him, her hair swinging like a black cloak to swirl around her shoulders.   
  
"AND WHO WOULD NOT WISH REVENGE I ASK YOU? YOU DID NOT WITNESS THE FEAR AND FATE OF THOSE SOLOTANS. YOU DID NOT CRAWL, BLOODIED, THROUGH THE WRECKAGE. YOU DID NOT SEE THE BROKEN BODIES AND VILE WOUNDS-"  
  
"These people, these wounded...please,...   
I am a doctor,  
allow me to see them."   
Doctor McCoy stepped forward, shocked by his own voice and even more by his words.  
When he'd opened his mouth to speak, he hadn't known what he was going to say.   
She glanced at him with her opal eyes, and he glanced away, slightly embaressed by her sudden full attention.   
"It was the Federation, and I'm not saying it was, perhaps I could recognize the weaponry used and try to help some of your people."  
The Jasha frowned, cocking her head at an earnest angle.  
  
"YOU ARE BEING HONEST."  
  
She simply observed. She stayed suspensefully silent for a moment, then asked,  
  
"YOU EXPECT TO GAIN NOTING FROM THIS?"  
  
Leonard heaved a huge sigh, trying to calm his nerves. It was an important question, but the truth of it made his heart sink  
.   
"Noooo...I can't say that is true. I can't help but hope that you might free my friends, should I offer you the aid. But I will not withold it from you. I do wish to help."  
  
She nodded once at him.  
  
"YOU ARE AN INTRICATE MAN, LEONARD MCCOY.  
AND WHAT OF YOUR COMPANION, MISTER SPOCK? WHAT SHALL I DO WITH HIM?"  
  
"He can help me," the good doctor hurriedly suggested. He gave a ragged grin and added on, "I mean, he IS the closest thing to a computer I have to confer with."   
Spock didn't bat an eyelash in response. He stared at the Jasha in innocent Vulcan curiousity.  
  
"THEN, SUCH ARRANGEMENTS SHALL BE MADE. YOU SHALL AID IN THE HEALING OF OUR PEOPLE. SPOCK WILL ACCOMPANY YOU. YOUR FRIEND'S FREEDOM..."  
  
She stopped, clearly gauging their reations,  
  
"IS YET TO BE DECIDED."  
  
She clapped her hands once and Solotan guards lead Spock and McCoy to the healing chambers, their hope momentarily renewed.  
  
  
*************************************************  
  
  
"I wish that Capt'in Kirk was here..."  
  
Scott muttered the comment under his breath and glared at the viewscreen, daring the Klingon Bird-of-Prey to come into sight.   
  
"What a wee knot we have ourselves tied into this time, I'll tell ya..."  
  
He spun in the command chair, acutely uncomfortable in the warm leather seat, and raised his voice to a more audible level.   
  
"Ensign, see if ya can patch an emergency message tuh Starfleet Command, scrambled. Give them our current dilemma."  
  
The young woman immediately obeyed, then turned frightened tawny eyes to Scott,   
  
"Shall I ask the for their advice, sir?"  
  
The cheif engineer shook his sable head at the meek question,  
  
"Nae, doncha bother with that lass...their answer wouldn't reach us in time, it will take at least a week before it comes back tuh us. We'll haveta figure out how to deal with our Klingon friends way before then."  
And, he silently added to himself, such answers might include leaving the landing party behind. There was no way he could take such advice.  
  
"Helmsman."  
  
He whirled around in his chair, fixing a steady Gaelic gaze on the blond leiutenant at the console. The fellow straightened beneath his commanding officer's scruntiny and returned the stare firmly. Good, Scott thought, he's a steady one.  
  
"How long before those Klingons get here?"  
  
The man glanced down at his console read-out, his face momentarily washed in the bright green wording.   
  
"They have slowed down, sir, to warp 2...they will arrive into viewing range in...15 minutes..."  
  
"Alright...I will tell ya wot tuh do. We're gonna change orbit and head to the opposite side of the planet. Plot a course and take it at Warp 1. It willna hide us for very long, mind ya, but if Klingon technology is still as terrible as it has been. It will take em a while to sniff us out."   
  
"Aye aye, sir."  
  
Scott felt the quiet grind as the ship changed direction and pondered his options. They were dangerously limited. The Enterprise could make a run for it, of course. But leaving meant also abandonning all the personnel on the planet, possibly to a Klingon raid. It was true Kirk would have wanted him to go, to speed off now before the Klingons even realized they were there. But leaving the captain and stranded crew, as well as the Solotan people to the Klingons was not an option he could follow. Scott nibbled his knuckle and sat back. The Klingons would no doubt be willing to start a pretty fight.   
Could the Enterprise, with it's finely tuned engines and state of the art weaponry, give them a pretty finish? 


	7. Russians returned

Pavel Chekov stirred, his vision slurred with halfconciousness. Around him, voices chirruped, soft, lilting, luring him back into the deep sleep he'd just managed to untangle himself from. The words were unrecognizable without a universal translator, instead they harmonized together like music, like a sweetly sung Russian lullably, like the quiet sounds the Enterprise made at nighttime.   
The crooning couldn't quite overpower the sound of familar words, being spoken at a distance away. English words, Chekov realized duly, and he forced some focus into his eyes.  
A Solotan stood over him, smaller than the guards and less burly. The pearl eyes didn't blink, but shone down at him in wonderment. Chekov was almost amused by the display, until his head cleared and quickly reminded him of the death of his guards. He tried to move his fingers on the injured arm. They felt stiff and thick, a clown's fingers, but they certainly could move again. A splash of pure relief brought a smile to his face. He turned his head, breifly aware of the cold metal table beneath him and sought out the English voices. Chekov made the mistake of trying to leap to his feet with surprise. But the jolt of dizziness caught him with the first twitch and he fell back against the table. He was drifting back into unconciousness he knew, but he could not force the smile from his face. Either he was hallucinating, or he had just seen Mister Spock!  
  
***************************************************************  
  
  
"MISTER SCOTT! MISTER SCOTT! The klingons...they're contacting us..."  
  
Montgomery Scott's skilled hands twisted sweatily around the leather armrests as he swiveled to face the communications officer. A fine film of perspiration was forming a sheen on his forehead.   
"Are ye sure of that, lass?"  
Swallowing with some difficulty, the girl nodded, then added, "They wish to speak to the captain of this vessel, sir...and they aren't being polite about it..."   
  
Scott sighed. He'd hoped their hiding spot would've given them a little more time, but he supposed they had to work with what was given.  
"On Screen, then."  
  
The view of bleak Solo blinked out of sight and replaced itself with the an eerie, smaller version of a starship bridge. A Klingon captain settled back into his command chair with the look of a victorious hunter plastered on his face. Scott's lips turned down in a grimace,   
"Captain Scott here, of the Federation Starship Enterprise..."  
  
"I don't care who you are."  
  
The Klingon jeered, his snarl as greasy as his short black beard.   
  
"I am KORTH. AND the KLINGONS have claimed THIS PLANET before Federation scum decided to lay claim to it."  
  
"We havena layed claim tuh it..and according to our most recent logs, neitha have YOU! This planet, under no LEGAL document, is claimed by no one,"  
Scott lurched to his feet, no longer able to sit still under this barrage of dishonor. The Klingon, mirroring Scott's defensive pose, jolted to a stand as well and leaned in close to the screen.  
  
"The ore of this planet belongs to the Klingon Empire, WE HAVE FOUND IT! WE WILL KEEP IT!! You shall pay for your puny words, Earther...prepare to be defeated."  
  
With that scathing threat, the viewscreen went black.  
The communications officer broke the silence to softly state the obvious.  
  
"They have ended the transmission, sir."  
  
**************************************************************  
  
  
  
Sulu was just starting to doze when the Solotans burst into their cell, carting an familar form of cargo with them. With a digusted chirp that sounded strangely like a laugh, they thrust a shirtless Mister Chekov into the cage, where the unconcious form heaped heavily upon the floor. Kirk scrambled to his feet and almost made it before the barred door was ruthlessly slammed.   
He cursed and wrapped his hands around the bars,  
"What did you do to him??!" He shouted angerily, wishing that his arm could only reach the imposing Solotan who swaggered before him.  
A very human scowl passed over the creature's lips and he spoke a few garbled words, which Uhura's translator drank in and fed back in a dead male monotone.   
  
"HE IS HEALED."  
  
Hikaru Sulu graciously ignored his captain's angry argument and focised his attentions on his Russian friend. He drew the security cheif into his arms, alarmed by his pale face and silent breathing.  
  
"Here."  
  
The barely audible voice belonged to Claude Laking, who'd stripped off his field jacket and held it out to the helmsman. The Ensign smiled at Sulu's concerned look.  
"Don't worry, I'm not cold."  
That was a blatent lie, as so confirmed Claude's thin form shivering violently, but the man was insistent. The helmsman whispered thanks and wrapped the burgundy coat around his unconcious best friend.  
"Is he...?" Uhura crawled up to them, her legs suddenly so cold that they wouldn't hold her. She touched his cold cheek and looked at Sulu imploringly.   
"He's alive," Sulu replied, "I can't tell much more."   
"Mister Chekov."  
Kirk knelt beside his crewmen and gently shook the leutenent's small shoulder.   
"Mister Chekov...Pavel...Come back to us."   
  
As if in obediance to his captain's orders, the Slavic eyes fluttered twice, then opened completely, showering them all with an ocean-black gaze. He inhaled sharply, startling everyone.   
"Keptin...Keptin, I must tell you."  
The harshly accented words were hoarse and urgent. Pavel tried to pull his weak body up and in response Kirk lowered himself closer to the struggling boy.  
"Keptin...I saw...I saw MISTER SPOCK!! He is here!"   
Uhura's eyes shined full of pure relief and happiness...until they reached Captain Kirk's somber face. He looked grave and that frightened the smile off her face.  
"Are you sure, Leiutenent?? Where did you see him??"  
"In..in the place where they take me, Keptin...I hear his woice there..and I looked and I saw him...I...saw..."  
  
Chekov's head lolled back on Sulu's arm as the Russian dropped back into a nuturing slumber. Kirk breifly watched his youngest senior officer, then nodded, as if confirming the report within his own mind.  
"Good work, Mister Chekov," he muttered distractedly. "You take care of him, Sulu...Uhura, Ensign...we are goning to make some noise..."  
  
With that Kirk rose, and marched determindedly back to the bars. 


	8. Escape hopefully

NOTES: I apologize for not writing in this sooner, I can't seem to find the time anymore. I promise *crosses fingers* to write in this more often. I do believe that it is almost done. ;)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Spock! Look at this!"  
  
Doctor Leonard McCoy gave the Vulcan's arm an impatient pull towards the patient he was examining and pointed at the harsh burn that charred the Solotan's stomach. Spots of discolor were splattered all around the main wound like a violent starburst. McCoy's old hands gently traced the places and his blue eyes flew intensely to Spock.  
"Just look..."  
"Third degree burns, Doctor, that appear-"  
"That's not what I mean, Spock! Look at the inconsistancy of the burn...see how it's seems to be all over the place? Well, no phaser I've ever seen makes a wound like that. A phaser shot is always clean, straight like an arrow. "   
McCoy mimiced the shot of a phaser by poking the Vulcan's shoulder with one pointed finger.  
Spock frowned and stared pensively at the doctor.   
"That would led us to the conclusion that the burns did not come phasers at all, that the Solotans were fired at by some other form of energy weapon."  
"I've only seen a burn like this once or twice..."  
The statement exited McCoy's mouth with an undertone of exhaustion, and his eyes drooped sadly at the memory.  
"It only comes from-"  
  
  
  
"INCOMING DISRUPTOR FIRE!"  
  
The naviagtor cried, and the Helmsman turned expectantly towards the acting captain.  
  
"Evasive action, Mister Sul....uh, Mister!"  
  
The helmsman nodded and his hands flew across the controls like two white birds, pecking at the console with long fingers.   
"It's Mister Giasco, sir..." He informed Scott a moment later, when the ship had safely spun out of the line of fire.  
"Fine name, laddie, I'll take to remembering it."  
Scott turned the command chair, with more ease now then there had been before.   
"You there, Tactical...are the phaser banks charged and ready?"  
"Charging, sir."  
"Good," Scott replied, whirling in his seat and pinning his sable gaze on the helmsman once more.  
"Prepare to fire at the Klingons, Mister Giasco, on my order."  
  
  
  
Uhura's high-pitched scream tore through the underchambers of the Solotan cavern, ripping like taut silk, reviberating off the low hanging stalagtites and echoing around the glassy floor and walls. The furious pounding of Kirk's boot against the cage bars provided a violent beat to Uhura's cry. The Solotan guard approached slowly, as if unsure if he should bother with the discomfort of prisioners at all. White, frayed hair swung gently as he marched up few feet away from the gate.   
He sneered and barked something, that the translator at Uhura's hip picked up and repeated in Standard.  
"What do you want, Federation-liars?"  
"Please...he is very, very ill!,"   
Uhura cried, placing just the right amount of panic in her tone. She gestured to Ensign Laking, who layed jerking against the icy ground. A pathetic moan eerily escaped his throat.   
"He needs a doctor! He may die!"  
The warrior shrugged as if it were no consuming concern of his.   
Kirk pressed his face between the bars, cold metal touching both of his cheeks as he snarled,  
"You cannot let him die. Your Jasha ordered that we are punished EQUALLY. If you let him die, you are betraying the Jasha's orders."  
The Solotan's white marble eyes, bulged futher from his round face as he contemplated the prisioner's words.   
It was true...and should he disobey the Jasha, he certainly knew there would be consequences. Unpleasant ones.   
Without thinking, the Solotan guard reached shakily for the keys jangling from his animal hide belt and shoved them into the lock. Muttering about the fragile condition of Outsiders, he entered, making the mistake of turning his back on the Captain when he reached for the twitching Ensign.  
All it took was a single chop, the side of Kirk's hand drove into the solider's neck, and soon the guard was sprawled on the floor.  
  
"Bravo, Mister Laking!," James Kirk praised, helping the young Ensign to a stand.  
Claude beamed brightly, and blushed at the same time.  
"I was a member of the drama club at the Academy, sir..."  
  
"Well, that was certainly a convincing preformance, Ensign. Come on, we have to get to their 'hospital' chambers before they send more guards to check on us."  
  
The captain's gaze took in the rest of his landing party and he frowned thoughtfully, seeing a wobbly Mister Chekov try to stand, using Sulu's arm as a crutch.  
Chekov, despite his wheezing, caught the Captain's worried hazel glance and his face cracked into a bright grin.  
"I know how to get to those chambers, Keptin. While they take me beck here, I only pretended to be sleeping..."  
The reassuring strength in Chekov's conviction prompted a warm smile from Kirk.  
  
"Then, by all means, mister...  
lead the way." 


	9. Hopefully escapelack of a better title

Thank you for the nice reviews. Here's the next chapter, a lot sooner than I expect to have it up...ENJOY!  
"Commander!"   
  
The helmsman shouted, suddenly very startled by something on his display.  
  
"Commander!! The Klingons are charging their phasers, sir, but not toward us....They are turning their ship towards the planet, sir! They are aiming straight for Solo!!!"  
  
"What?!"   
  
Scott reared up from his seat and glared at the helm console, enraged,  
  
"Those ANIMALS! I hope they're not intendin' to fire at an inhabited planet! Hail them, Ensign! I need to talk with that beast!"   
  
The Communications Officer shook her head, mussing her thin brown hair, and let out a squeak of frustration.   
"They refuse to acknowledge, sir. They won't-"  
  
"Thirty seconds till their banks are charged,"  
Giasco interupted, casting a frantic glance at the engineer acting captain. Scott's brow puckered. He knew that prolonged phaser blows could send a planet, even one as large and as dense as Solo, cracking into a pile of free flying meterorites. He considered a moment the strange sheild that covered the planet already, but it seemed to much of a risk to gamble so many lives on. Frightening, when one thought of the millions of inhabitants that lived on the Solotan surface. For a breif moment, Scott wondered what Captain Kirk would do . But it hit him soon enough, a desicion he truly wished could be made by anyone but him, at this moment.  
Licking his lips, and sitting back down in the absent captain's chair, Scott spoke,  
  
"Get as fast as ye can, Mr. Giasco. We're gonna put ourselves between that phaser and that planet!"  
  
Four hundred lives was a more kinder sacrafice than a hundred million, Scott thought drearily as the ship lurched towards death at her highest speeds.  
"Are we getting any closer?"  
  
Kirk's voice was a whisper, but tight with impatience. The group had been walking for at least a half hour, including the frequent rests they took so that Chekov could regain his sense of direction, and more importantly, catch his breath.   
  
"I am absolutely certain, sair,"  
he replied immediately. The captain glanced at his surroundings, unsure by what Chekov was using to guide them through these tunnels. Everything looked the same, the carved ice floor, the rough cavern walls, delicately decorated with icicles, the neverending grey ceiling that echoed every word spoken. Perhaps, Kirk thought with some irony, Chekov was working with pure gut instinct. After all, he had been the best navigator the Enterprise ever had.   
"Captain, I hear something."   
Uhura hoarsely called across the corridor. Kirk strained, holding his breath. Murmurs, he heard the soft, chirping of Solotan words. Then a seemingly famliar voice, a shout louder than the rest of them, talking in indistiguishable Standard. Captain Kirk offered a quick but genuine smile to the members of the group,   
"We must be getting close now. Good work, Mister Chekov."  
The Russian ducked his head at the compliment, a slight blush of pride on his face, and James Kirk thought he recognized the twenty two year old ensign who'd boarded his ship less than a decade ago.   
"Come on," Kirk commanded,with a growing undertone of hope warming his voice.  
Dr. Leonard H. McCoy turned to his Vulcan companion a small flush of anger and perhaps, hope, splashing his features a dark pink.   
  
"Don't you see, Spock? If the Klingons did this to them..."  
  
"Then the Federation is not responsible for the injury of Solotan citizens. I see your point, Doctor. The Federation is not to blame, therefore..."  
  
"Neither is Jim and the others!!!"  
McCoy's face broke into a craggy grin.   
The smile faded as soon as it came, when the good doctor realized the patient beneath them was squirming and whimpering weeping words in his native language.   
"Damn,"   
  
McCoy whispered, the strength suddenly lacking from his boisterous voice,  
  
"Disruptor beams are one of the most painful injuries out there. And here I am, with little knowledge on how to treat them..."  
  
Spock cleared his throat, acutely aware of the doctor's dark emotions,  
  
"I am sure that any treatment you offer them, doctor, will be a successful one."  
  
Leonard's eyes stayed dull and ungleaming, but his mouth found a smaller version of his earlier smile.  
  
"Why, Spock, that's the closest thing to a compliment you've ever given me."  
  
Spock's eyebrow raised, an expression of Vulcan distaste,  
"That wasn't the impression I was attempting to convey, doctor."  
  
McCoy's glanced at Spock a moment then chortled, with a voice full of illogical amusement.  
"Of COURSE not, Mister Spock. Why EVER would I accuse you of such a...human...act."  
  
"I am uncertain, doctor."  
  
More relaxed now, Doctor McCoy dug through his medical bag, looking for a hypospray, thankful for Spock's intuition, as human as it may seem.  
"INCOMING!"  
  
Scott grabbed the armrests and held them tightly. "All power to sheilds! Do it now!"   
  
"Brace yourselves," the helmsman called across the bridge.  
  
A loud crack exploded in their ears and the ship shook as if frightened, jarring everyone upward then towards the floor with such a force, Scott's teeth clacked painfully together.   
"Saints preserve us," he muttered, the turned on the comlink to announce what he'd had no time to do before the attack.  
"This is actin' Capt'in Scott to the crew. I ask ye to all head to battle stations, the Enterprise is under attack. I have decided that it's necessary to protect Planet Solo at all costs to us."  
He closed the frequency and turned in his chair when the Communications Officer cleared her throat gently.  
"Damage reports, sir...from engineering. And Sickbay wants to know what's going on."   
"Fill 'em in, Ensign. You, Giasco, take the power from the forward sheilds to the phaser banks and charge. "  
  
"Aye, aye, sir."  
  
Saints preserve us, Commander Scott thought again. It must have been a captain's prayer. 


	10. is it THE END!

"BONES!"   
  
McCoy whirled around, startled, an empty hypo dangling from his fingertips. His blue eyes shot open wide with disbelief. Before he could look to Spock to confirm this obvious hallucination, Captain Kirk sprinted across the bay and grabbed his friend by both arms.   
  
"Spock!"  
  
"Captain, it is certainly a welcomed sight, but we were informed that you and the others were in captivity."   
McCoy shot the Vulcan a venemous look, but Kirk was unaffected by Spock's emotionless observation.   
"We..uh..subdued our captors, Mister Spock, and Chekov led us here. Is there any cha-"  
Kirk's speech was torn away by a gasp, and he stumbled back, breaking his hold on McCoy and falling against the floor of ice with an audible bang.  
"YES," a voice soothed, the words tickling the back of his mind, like a mental feather  
, "SEE WHAT I SEE."  
In front of Jim Kirk's eyes, he saw his ship explode, thousands of porcelien peices shattering outward into silent space. The light of the explosion blinded him but he no longer needed to see. He could FEEL it instead, the agony of four hundred twisting, burning bod- the pull of ice cold gravity so stro-the final words of someone familar, someone filled with so much regret, "Saints preserve us."  
  
"Jim! Jim, what is it??? Jim, snap out of it...what did he say?" That last request was directed to someone else close by and without seeing them or even really hearing them, Kirk whispered those desperate words,  
"Saints preserve us....Saints preserve....the ship. My ship, it's-"  
"I COULD PREVENT THIS. THESE EVENTS HAVE YET TO TAKE PLACE."  
"..please..." Captain Kirk reached beseechingly out into the darkness, felt the warm clutch of someone taking his hand, so far away, so barely noticable...  
"I COULD PREVENT THIS. I COULD SHEILD YOUR SHIP FROM THE BLAST..."  
"Jasha...please...you can...only you..." Kirk's voice sounded dreamlike and lethargic, even as adrenaline still pumped through his wild beating heart and his body still quaked from the sight of his doomed ship. A touch interupted his telepathic connection, as jolting as a sucker punch as fingertips touched his brow. And suddenly, Spock was there. Inside his mind and talking to the Jasha.   
"You have the knowledge that the doctor and I have found. It was the Klingons who destroyed your villages, not the Federation. And now, the Federation protects you..."  
Spock's thoughts trailed off and Kirk felt the grip of minds lessen, leaving him once again in his darkness.   
"YOU...YOU...."  
The Jasha's voice seemed subdued now, quieter and lacking it's earlier defiance.  
"YOU are correct. THAT IS WHAT THEY ARE DOING. I CLEARLY FEEL THAT AS WELL. THANK YOU, MISTER SPOCK. I FEAR THAT I HAVE BEEN ACTING ON WHAT YOU CALL...revenge..."  
Captain Kirk shuddered as the Jasha left his mind, abandoned it and left it feeling empty, yet gloriously uncrowded.   
They all could hear her now, the landing party as well as the wandering, aching and aiding Solotans who filled the healing chambers.   
"THAT LEAVES LITTLE CHOICE FOR ME...I MUST AIDE YOUR WEAK SHIP. I MUST...MAKE IT STRONG."  
Pavel Chekov's leaden eyelids lowered and he found himself echoing in a hoarse whisper,  
"...make it strong.. make"  
Hikaru Sulu clenched his teeth, muffling the words, yet making them more determined,  
"... it strong...make it str-"  
Nyota Uhura took Sulu's shoulder in a clasp, latching onto his strength as she, too muttered those three magic words,  
"strong...please, make it strong..."  
An exhausted, brave Claude Laking echoed the plea,  
"Make her strong...make"  
McCoy joined the steadily growing chorus, recognizing the chant, feeling it roll off his tongue with little effort,  
"make it strong..make her strong.."  
Spock had his eyes shut and his face was casted in a stone mask, no one needing to know what he too was mumbling inwardly.  
Captain Kirk felt the power of the strong minds around him, knew what this task would take, and under his breath, he muttered, the spoke then screamed with little control,  
"MAKE HER STRONG! MAKE HER STRONG!!! MAKE HER-"  
"INCOMING!"  
  
The call came across the tension filled bridge, gaining a scowl from Mr. Scott as he glared at the viewscreen.  
"Hold yer ground, laddies, sheilds up to fullest power!"  
In the red green glow if his console, Giasco looked up with a thin frown on his long face,  
"Sir, the sheilds cannot sustain another hit, not like the last on-"  
A blow shook the ship from side to side, a circut in the ceiling of the bridge shorted out, showering the helm in a breif and beautiful surge of sparks.   
"Giasco!"  
"A breach, sir! A definate breach!," The acting science officer cut off his demand, "Sections 12a and starting to stretch to 12b!"  
"Get engineerin'on it, on the double!!," SCott roared, then back towards the helm,  
"Giasco! The sheilds!"  
It was not a question, but an order.  
"Down, sir, the foresheilds are defin-"  
"INCOMING!"  
"All power to the fore sheilds NOW! Don't bother charging those phasers yet...just...JUST..MAKE HER STRONG!"  
Scott watched in desperation as the large beam of red light surged towards the Enterprise, his poor battered ship.  
"No power, sir! I can't! I can't-"  
"Impact in less thean ten seconds-"  
"Saints preserve-"  
The collision came, the red light bearing down on the viewscreen, then dissappearing in a sudden flame of green light. The ship did not quiver, did not even whimper with strain as the lime colored shroud covered her body. There was a breif hum as the lights on the bridge fluttered back to life, flooding the small space with light and sound. No one missed, however, the meek and redundant voice of the acting science officer as he swallowed hard and whispered with awe,  
"All...all power is restored, captain."  
The green glow then slid silently off the Enterprise, congealing into a round mass at the front like a glob of mint jelly, then pealing away at a violent speed, headed straight for the bird of prey.  
Korth glared at the viewscreen, his Klingon blood raging in his veins with the fury of a thousand ancestors. He watched the photon torpedo charged at the broken Enterprise, prepared to see it explode into millions of satisfyingly, unsalvegable peices. But this strange new sheild, this Federation technology had suddenly sprang up and defeated Korth's favored and most powerful weaponry. What was that it was doing now?  
What? It couldn't be-  
Korth's eyes widened as the green projectile whizzed towards his ship at an uncomprehensible speed. His mouth opened to direct an order to his crew, but before the gruff Klingon words could exit his throat a blinding, horrible exploded into his mind. One word, all ablaze with green flame and anger and murderous rage worthy of a Klingon raid,  
  
bortaS! bortaS! bortaS! bortaS!  
revengerevengerevengerevengerevengerevengerevengere-  
  
The incoming fire blossomed around the Klingon ship, the sound of the explosion swallowed completely by the surrounding space.   
In a single chamber of the Solotan labrynth, the Jasha sat strained upon her nest of soft pillows. Her bulbous pale eyes surged with greenlights, like two landscapes of snow and pine. Her mouth worked, chewing a single word over and over again until she could no longer draw a breath. She gasped then and fell to her side, the lights in her eyes vanishing abruptly. She knew by the strange feeling inside of her that the strain was about to take her, the burden of so much anger, so much vengeful rage, even with several other minds projecting the threat along side of her own, had taken too much from her than could be replaced.  
Yet, there was a last task she needed to preform before she allowed her soul to join with the former Jashas in the Resting Place. With a voice, filled more now with love and affection than hatred and pain, she crooned her final words to the Federation humans that had found themselves aiding her powerful telepathy with their own meager senses. She whispered this message with her mind, her mouth turning up just slightly at the edges, then answered the beckons of her ancestors.  
  
"THANK YOU."  
  
There were warm tears streaming from McCoy's eyes, though he couldn't imagine why. He reached for Spock's arm and the Vulcan turned with the hand not yet touching his skin.   
"Is she...?"  
McCoy voiced the question that all the other landing party members wished to know. They all had their eyes glued to Mister Spock, all asking.  
Spock nodded.  
A crackle of static interupted their silence and caused Uhura to jerk as if she'd been stung.  
"Captain!" She cried with delight, bringing out her forgotten communicator from her belt. It crackled a second time, then chirped brightly. Scott's voice came through, loud and crisp on the small panel. "Scott to landin' party. Come in landin' party. PLEASE come in!"  
"Scott!"  
Kirk snatched the communicator from Uhura's able hands, and asked in a voice of worried tension,  
"Scott, how's my ship?!?"  
There was a hesistance in Scott's answer, as though each word had to be carefully thought out.   
"Well, she be fine now, Cap'n, shipshape, sir...but my, do we have a tale to tell ye when ye get back on board. Speaking of which, Cap'n, the sheild surrounding Solo is down, and the transporter has had a miraculously recover'y, so we can beam ye up whenever ye see fit."  
Kirk's eyes scanned his group of crew, filled at once with his familar good humor.  
"We have a tale to tell you to, Scott, believe me. But for now, make that seven to beam up."  
We will return to the Solotan surface soon, Kirk thought as the warm ticklish glow of the transporter enveloped him, to take care of the wounded citizens and in time, to ask about them joining the Federation as a permanent member.   
Seven pillars of light vanished from the cold confines of the Solotan ice caverns, then reappeared into the mild, bright transporter room, each one still remembering the quiet and sincere THANK YOU that they had recieved, each one whispering back the same in their own minds. Respect and honor filling the words.  
THANK YOU.  
THE END.  
Thank you for being so patient. It was hard to find the time to create more of this story, but I really enjoyed writing this and I hope to write more ST things as time goes on. I had no time to spell check this chapter, so I admit to a few spelling mistakes in here. Please forgive me for those, I will attempt to edit ALL of this at a later date so that its easier to read. But I just HAD to finish it, right away, now matter how rough. It was screaming at me to be finished. I think you'll understand. I hope you liked it. :) 


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